


The Brightening Future is Ours

by Vanjalina



Series: The many faces of darkness and light [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conflicts of Blood, Dark Magic, F/M, Household Hardships, Malfoy Manor, Muggle London, Mystery, Old and new Friends, Post-Hogwarts, Relationship(s), Secrets, anonymous letters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanjalina/pseuds/Vanjalina
Summary: Hermione's time at Hogwarts is over, her new life is finally here. Education, friendship, love – she has it all. But those things are not always as easy as they seem, and especially having a proud pure-blood (and former Death Eater) as boyfriend turns out to be tricky in more than one way.And then the first anonymous letter arrive. The intentions behind the correspondence are unclear, and as time goes by she find herself wrapped up in a design penned by an invisible hand.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: The many faces of darkness and light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551304
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	1. At the Grangers

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of “The many faces of darkness and light”, the sequel to “Next to You”. Here we're following Hermione and Draco in their new lives after completing their studies at Hogwarts. I'd like to start with welcoming my old readers back – I hope you'll like this one too! New readers are of course welcome too, but I really suggest that you read part one first, since there will be – naturally – a lot of references to what happened earlier. Anyway, I’ll start with a recap to refresh our memories, just skip it if you don’t need it. (If you plan to read Next To You, I strongly recommend you to stop reading here, there will be all kind of spoilers coming.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> When Hermione came back to Hogwarts after the war, to finish her education with a last year, she never knew that she would become a mentor, a kind of support teacher. Even less did she knew that she would have to work together with the hated Draco Malfoy, and least of all; that she was going to like it.  
> A strong friendship grew between them, and this was not popular with her other friends when they found out. Hermione already had a hard time with her boyfriend, Ron. Their relationship was clearly flawed in many ways, and as the months passed, she realised that the relationship wasn't what she wanted or needed, anymore. She broke up with him, and he did not take it well.  
> The coming months she spent most of her time with Draco, studying in the mentors' office. Eventually they realised that they wanted more than friendship, and their life together begun, though they kept it very quiet. The relationship was nearly destroyed by Draco's best friend, Pansy, who played a nasty trick to keep him as her own. This was handled though, and instead they could start worrying about the next threat; the Ministry. Any given day Draco might be summoned for a supplementary trial, and the shadow of Azkaban was always lingering over their lives. However insignificant, any real or suggested offence of any imaginable sort, could be enough to give the Ministry an excuse.  
> And the trial came. Thankfully he was more or less cleared, and this triggered two things: Firstly, Hermione showed, in front of a crowded Great Hall, that he was the one she loved, and that she was going to stand up for him. Secondly, Harry stated that he finally, though very tentatively, accepted Draco, and offered him his hand in front of the majority of Hogwarts inhabitants.
> 
> And that was where we left them. We will soon go on, just a few more words from me. Happy reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> The dedication of this story originally goes to sweet Noot, my muse, but now I'd like to include Iris too, since she's the one supporting me in all the finishing work. Then I also want to direct my deepest thanks Arabellagaleotti, my excellent and hard-working beta reader. She's all you could ever ask for in a beta, and some more.

“They’re not going to bite.” Hermione Granger smiled affectionately at her boyfriend.

“I know.” There was some irritation in Draco Malfoy's voice.

“Then why are you looking like that?” She rolled over in her bed, looking up at the walls of her childhood bedroom. Draco had arrived at her parents' house about an hour earlier, he was placed with his things in the guest room down the corridor, and now they had ended up in Hermione's room while they waited for tea. She had retreated to her favourite place among all the pillows at the head end of her bed, a place where she had made personal acquaintance with many, many books during the years.

He was walking around on the floor, looking out the window, at her desk or at her books, but never standing still for more than a moment.

“I wonder what you're suggesting that I look like,” he snapped at her, but the dark look he gave her was diminished by the obvious strain on his face.

She laughed softly. “Come and sit down.” She patted the duvet next to him, and shifted over to make room.

With a sigh and a suspicious face he sat down.

“I'm not going to bite either, I promise.” She sat up on her knees, leaned in close and kissed him for a minute or two. Then she sat back down again, looking at her now much more composed boyfriend. “That was an improvement, feeling a bit better now?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Just don't try that special way of calming me at the table, OK?”

“Um. Maybe not.” She laughed at the thought of it, her parents would die. “How was it at home?”

“Well, as I told you, Mother was happy to have me home. She wasn't fond of the idea that I should go away again.”

“But it's only for a week, well, not even that.”

“Yeah, but she's been alone for a year now, can you blame her for wanting some company?” He seemed slightly defensive.

Hermione sighed. “No, I suppose not. But I want to see you too. And I believe that you want that too.”

“We could have gone straight to the Manor instead of doing this detour.”

“I don't think so. I need some time to prepare before I go back there.” A small shudder ripped through her body.

“If it is any consolation, we’re all a bit uneasy at the Manor, Mother too. You're not the only one with bad memories in that place.”

She watched him closely for a moment, then she reached out and took his hand. “I know. And I don't want to downgrade your torments from the place, but you have good memories too. You were there, you know how my only memories looks.”

“I'm so sorry.” The guilt was clear on his face. “I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry.” He pressed her hand hard. “And I know that nothing I say can make it good, but I am sorry.”

“What are you talking about? You didn't do anything.” Unconsciously she moved a bit closer.

“No, that's the problem. You were tortured in front of my eyes, and I did nothing to stop it.” With a haunted expression he bowed down and leaned his forehead against hers.

“Keep your voice down, there are things my parents don't need to know.” An outstretched hand stroke his cheek. “And it wasn't your fault. You didn't do it, and you couldn't do anything. It would only had placed you in the same situation, in the best case. You had your life on the line. I understand, I do.”

“If it makes anything better I still have nightmares about it.”

“Why would anything feel better for me because you are in pain? You have to try to let those parts of your life go. I'm here with you now, that is all that matters.” She lifted her head up until her lips were on his.

In the same moment they could both hear the steps outside the door, and they quickly moved apart.

“Hermione, it's time for tea.” Mr. Granger stood in the door opening. “Draco.” He gave a polite nod before he turned and went back to his wife again.

“Let's go.” Determinedly she started to push him off the bed.

“Your father doesn't like me.”

“Don't be silly. He's just a bit protective. They haven't even got the chance to get to know you. Go now, I'll be right behind you.”

They slowly went up and eventually ended up at the tea-table. Mrs. Granger made sure all got tea and accompaniments, and then it became a strained silence until Mr. Granger cleared his throat.

“So, Draco, I could ask you what subjects you have been taking, but I'm afraid it will be just as incomprehensible as when Hermione tries to explain hers.” He sent his daughter an affective glance. “But there is one I know, it's the one about us. Muggle-studies it's called I believe? Did you take that?”

“No, I can't say I did.” Keeping a neutral face had probably been much easier for him if it wasn't for Hermione's ironical smile.

“Oh. But I understand it that you're coming from an all wizard family, isn't that so?”

“That's correct.”

“But then you really need that, how else would you know anything about the real world?”

“Well...” He glanced at his girlfriend in a quiet ask for help, but she remained silent. “You have to understand that for me the wizard world is the real world. Just as little as you need to know about wizards to go on with your life, the same do I need to know about Muggles to go on with my life. There just have been no need to interfere with the Muggle world for me.” Looking around the table he decided to hastily add something. “All that is different now when I've met Hermione of course.”

“Of course. But you're one of those clean-bloods, aren't you?”

“I am pure-blood, yes.” The words had a faint trace of pride, it’s hard to let go of years of supremacy.

“I just hope you don't look down on my daughter because of that.” Some worried lines got added to his face.

“No, I would never.” A small smile woke on his face. “If anything, I look up to her.”

“Well, I won't beat about the bush. We have heard things about you during the years, and it hasn't been flattering. Do you care to explain how you ended up with my daughter now?”

“Dad! You promised not to talk about that.” Hermione looked upset and glanced at her boyfriend. He was stony-faced and pale.

“I know.” He looked a bit guilty. “But I need to know who it is that's important enough for you to take home.”

“It is a legitimate question.” The hard face was still in place, but his eyes were watchful and almost scared. “I wasn't nice to Hermione when we grew up, I can't change that no matter how much I want to. I only know that when we met last year something was different. At least I know that I had changed, and I was open to meet her in a way I haven't been before.”

“And look at you two now, here you are together, even though all bad that has been between you.” Mrs. Granger hurried to interrupt her husband. “Isn't it nice to see what love can do?”

The silence was filled with feelings; anxiety, irritation and embarrassment.

“Anyone wants some more tea?” Hermione's mother lifted the teapot and then put it back on the table. “I'm afraid that it has got a bit cold while we talked. I'm just going to...” She started to stand up.

“Mrs. Granger, let me.” Without hesitation Draco draw his wand and tapped lightly on the pot. Some steam slowly rose from the spout. Seeing how both his girlfriend's parents looked at him he turned unsure. “Oh, were you going to use electricity? I can chill it down again if you want to.”

“No, there's no need for that.” She sat down again, observing him closely. “I would have made a new pot, but I suppose...”

“It's nothing wrong with it, I promise.” A bit confused he turned to Hermione. “Don't you use magic at home?”

“Yes, but not for small things.”

“What, saving yourselves for _Stupefy_ and _Expulso_?” His face was incredulous and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Don't be silly. I'm just used to do things the Muggle way when I'm here.”

He looked sceptical and a little unnerved. “I'm not that good at the Muggle way.”

“Why am I not surprised?” A light push on the upper arm was accompanied by a mischievous smile. “And that's what you get for not taking Muggle Studies.”

“Yeah, let's go back to third year, and you can tell thirteen years old me why I should take up Muggle Studies.”

“I rather not. I'm not that fond of you at that age.”

“Oh! I'm hurt.” He laughed, feigning an insulted look.

Mr. Granger cleared his throat. “Well, it's not that strange since-”

“Dad! It was a joke!”

“Oh. I see.”

“More tea?” Lifting the now once more warm teapot Mrs. Granger looked around. She served her husband and herself, but the other couple declined. After putting the teapot down she looked up at them again. “So, what are you planning to do today?”

“We thought we should take a walk before dinner. Maybe down to the square and then take the way around the new houses back home.” Hermione finished her tea and sent a quick smile at her boyfriend.

“Well, be on your way then, you don't have to wait for us old people. If you're done with your tea, of course.”

“Draco, are you done?” When he nodded she stood up and waited for him to do the same. “Thanks, for the tea, Mum.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Granger, it was delicious.” Draco made a very short and discreet bow.

Hermione took her boyfriend by the hand and left the room. “I'm just going to get my bag.”

When they were ready to leave they could hear part of an isolated sentence float out from the tea table. “...but he has very good manners at least.” What Mr. Granger answered was unclear.

“You see, they sure like you.”

“Yeah, but I sure would have liked to hear what was before that 'but' though.”

  
o O o

  
London showed itself from its best side. The sun was shining, but it wasn't uncomfortably hot, and a light breeze moved the air a little. Hermione and Draco walked slowly down the street, hand in hand, and amusing themselves with the new game 'Guess Electricity'.

“But what about that one?” He pointed at a lamp in a window they passed by.

“Yep, that uses electricity too.”

“There's electricity in everything here. Don't you feel how your skin start to tingle of it all?”

The laugh was kind but amused. “No, not really.”

“It's unnatural.” With eyes narrowing he glared at the nearby lamppost.

“And magic isn’t?”

“Let's talk about something else.” He shook his head. “What about your friends, have you heard from them?”

“Well, I'm still not on Ron's top ten, so I don't expect to hear something from him. Nothing from Ginny either, but I'm not surprised, she's still a bit chilly when it comes to you. I have got a letter from Harry though.” Her face lit up. “He invited us to come and visit him at Grimmauld Place some day, we have to do that.”

“If you say so.” There was a certain lack of enthusiasm.

“I'm almost blown away by all that joy.” She gave him a little push on the arm with her shoulder.

“I still don't trust him, OK? He says all those things about giving me a chance, but I'm not so sure...” His eyes fixed on something far away. “I might have told you before, but that is one scary guy.”

“And I don't understand it, I can't see why he should be so scary.”

“Um, he defeated the Dark Lord? I’m fully aware how powerful the dark Lord was – what does that say about Potter?” He paused for a moment, with a curious face. “If that doesn't do the trick, he almost killed me two years ago. Not to talk about the strange little things you start to say about him all the time.” With a shrug he looked back at her. “And he eats Death Eaters for breakfast. I've told you that already.”

She shook her head. “I don't know what to say to get you to understand that Harry is a kind, caring and loving person.”

“Who eats Death Eaters. Don't forget that detail. And if you missed that, I haven't really done anything through the years that would provoke any kindness and love for me from his side.”

“You haven't really treated me good enough to provoke any love if you're looking at our upbringing, but... here we are.”

“Yes, and it's still a mystery to me. How did I end up with the most fantastic girl there is, one who I treated so bad?”

“Maybe we just had to grow up before we were ready to see each other the right way?” With a soft smile she pressed his hand. “What about you, have you heard anything from your friends?”

There was a deep sigh. “I haven't had any contact with Theo, but I believe that we will stay in touch. I do have heard from Pansy though.”

“And?”

“She's not happy. She had hoped that you and I would split up when school was over. Since we, as she put it, don't have a single bloody thing in common.”

Hermione snorted. “That's so not true. We have a lot in common, that's what's so great about us.”

“I have a feeling Pansy is thinking more pure-blood versus Mud- Muggle-born. Manor versus Muggle London. Dark Lord versus Potter. You see what I mean?”

“And do you buy it?” There was a hint of steel in her voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really believe that the fact that both my parents are Muggles make me unable to love you? Or that your experiences in the war would prevent you from loving me?”

“No, but...” He looked unsure.

“But what? I can't believe that you're letting that white-rumped sandpiper manipulate you like that. Yes, we come from different lives, but that doesn't mean that this can't work. Because we can make it, I know we can. And I thought you did too.”

“Hermione?” His face was totally unreadable. “Did you just call Pansy a… a white-rumped sandpiper?”

“Yes, so what?”

For a couple of seconds he just looked at her in silence, and then he threw his head back and laughed. “You are wonderful. Nothing in this world can stop me from loving you.” He leaned over to her and gave her a quick kiss. “I hope there aren't any nosey neighbours who aren’t allowed to see us together.”

“No, no one cares about a young couple kissing here. We’re totally anonymous. But don't do any magic whatever you do. The Ministry is pretty hard on the International Statute of Secrecy.”

“I had no such plans, I'm not stupid you know.” Suddenly he looked worried. “Because your parents don't count, do they? I mean, they already know. Even though they are Muggles.”

“I have a very hard time believing that it will count. The Statute isn't about preventing people from using magic, it's about preventing exposure. And as you say, they already know. Otherwise the whole Diagon Alley would be guilty by now.” She smiled at him and pressed his hand.

“So, to return to our friends. Weasel is still sulky over losing the best girl in the world, I can't blame him really, especially when it’s to me. He still doesn't like to talk to you and he still wants to bash in my teeth. Am I right?”

“That's about it, yeah.” The corner of her mouth was twitching.

“Girl Weasley is grumpy that you chose the big bad Death Eater for your partner, and maybe a bit because you ditched her brother, but she does talk to you if talked to, and it's not necessary for her to bash in my teeth.” While winking at her he saw her try to hold back a smile.

“Potter is his old, jolly self. Happy, social and caring.” Some unidentifiable feeling flew over his face. “Theo is his old self. Contemplating, unsocial and uninterested. Pansy...” He made a pause. “Pansy is cross because she wants me away from you, if she not can be my lover then at least my best friend. She will hopefully come around in a near future. I'd really like it if I didn't have to stop you two from hexing each other all the time.”

“She's the one doing the hexing, I haven't threatened her. So far.” A smile that wasn't exactly kind spread across his face “That can change.”

First he hid his face in his free hand, but then he looked up at her again. “That's _exactly_ what I mean.”

“Then she better keep her paws off my boyfriend.”

“She was my friend long before I met you.” His face had a slightly self-exculpatory expression.

“Yes, but it was me you chose for your girlfriend. I don't really feel any need to stuff that fact down her throat, but I'll do it if necessary.” There was an impatient noise. “I'm not trying to stop her from being your friend, I just want her to realize that I'm your girlfriend, I'm here to stay, and there’s nothing she can do about it.”

“I'll try to talk to her. If she understands that her position as BFF isn't threatened by you she might be more... well, not amiable, but less likely to hex you at least.”

“It's a bit unfair though. My friends get angry with _me_ for being in this relationship, but your friends just accept your actions.”

“That's not really true though. Theo is a bit irritated with me over my choice of partner, I'm sorry to say that he doesn't really hold you in the highest regard. But he pretty much kept the approach that it's my life, my choices, and which chapters do I believe will be covered in today's Arithmancy?”

“Except from the Arithmancy it sounds more or less like Harry.” She sighed. “I already miss him. It's so strange not living with him all of a sudden. And just to think that I never will again... Don't you miss your friends?”

“I do. But I've met Pansy already, she came over on my birthday.”

A displeased sound was followed by a guilty face. “Now I feel like the worst girlfriend ever for not being with you on your birthday.”

“But we decided that we should see each other now instead, and that's fine with me.”

“She was there and I was not, Parkinson must have had a field day.”

“And I tell you not to be bothered by that. I got your gift and your very special letter, and I appreciated them both a lot. That was the way we planned it, and it worked well in my opinion. You're here now, and she is definitely not.”

“I sure hope so.” She gave him a small smile and looked at her watch. “And we're getting late to dinner if we don't hurry up.”

  
o O o

  
“Is the lamp in your eyes, Draco?” Mrs. Granger looked at him with a worried expression.

“What, no, absolutely not.” He smiled politely.

“I can't help seeing that you look at it all the time, so I thought...”

Hermione giggled. “It's not the light, it's the electricity that bothers him.”

“Maybe we should turn it off then?” Her face was still worried.

After sending an unamused glare at his girlfriend he turned to Mrs. Granger. “It's no problem, I assure you. It's just a question of getting used to it, and I will be shortly, I'm sure.”

“Draco, I meant to ask you.” Mr. Granger interrupted the discussion. “Hermione’s going to apply for a job in the Department of control and... um... controlling magical creatures in your Ministry. Have you made any plans for your future?”

“I'm not sure yet, I have some different options. I'd like to work in the Ministry too, and mostly I'd like to end up in the Department of Mys-” He fell silent for a moment, and exchanged a quick glance with his girlfriend. “In one of the Departments. But I've also thought about the Department of Magical Education. I don't know if Hermione told you that we worked together as mentors this year?” When both of her parents nodded he went on. “I found something satisfactory in that, and I thought that maybe that area of expertise could be interesting.”

“You had more options? What will you do if you don't get an employment in the Ministry?”

“I was very interested in Potions in school, the brewing of mixtures with different magical properties. I believe it could be interesting to do some more research, and I have a fairly good laboratory at home.”

“But, who will employ you? Or how will you get financial support?”

“Oh, I'll be self-employed. After all, that will more or less be for fun.” A wry smile appeared and then went away. “Actually, I suspect that I'll be doing that anyway, I just not will be able to put as much time in it if I have a job at the Ministry too.”

“That Potions business, for fun as you say, will it give any good amount of payment?”

“Dad!”

“What, I want to know?”

“It will not give good, if any, payment. It will mostly be research for the thrill of finding new methods and results. If I'm lucky I can find a sponsor, but there will really be no need for that.” He couldn't help giving Mr. Granger an ironic smile. “My family has a neat amount of money at our disposal, so I don't have to worry about the financial part.”

“Oh.” They could all see his eyes widen, and how he relaxed a bit. “But what about your parents, what do they work with?”

“My mother is not employed, she used to be in committees for charity and such, but the latest year she has mostly been at home.” He squirmed discreetly on the chair and exchanged another glance with the witch next to him.

“Will there be any dessert?” Hermione talked clear and distinct, actively changing subject.

“Yes, I have a tart waiting for us, just as soon as we're all finished with the food.” Her mother smiled at her daughter with some understanding in her eyes.

“What about your father? What does he do?” Mr. Granger didn't seem to notice the angry look his daughter gave him.

“He's not doing much at all at the moment.”

“But that must be a very boring way of living, if you excuse me for saying it. He's not doing anything at all?”

“No.” He sighed, gave Hermione a long look and seemed to search for confirmation before turning back. “He's in prison.”

There was silence around the table. Mrs. Granger looked worried, her daughter irritated and her husband just shocked. It took some time before he recovered his power of speech.

“Why?” He seemed to have lost his inquisitorial approach, mostly looking worried and sad.

“It's... it's hard to explain. But thankfully he's in there for life, so you don't have to worry that your daughter will run into him.”

“Thankfully...” Now his voice was weak and he looked almost disbelieving.

“He wasn't a very good dad and, as you might understand now, not a very good role model. Hermione is very happy to have two loving and caring parents.” Another wry smile appeared. “You have met him by the way. Many years ago. He got into a fight with Weasel...y's father at a bookshop.”

“I remember him.” Hermione's mother looked upset. “I'm sorry to say, but that was not a nice man.”

“Told you so.” His voice was bitter and he suddenly looked older than his nineteen years. “I must admit that at that age I believed that he was a big man.”

“You were only a child, and he was your father. It's not strange.” Hermione looked almost angry. “And no one can blame _you_ for the way your father chose to walk!”

Without a word Draco reached out a hand and took Hermione's in his. Then he slowly gave her a sad smile.

“What way was that?”

“Dad, we're not talking about this any more.”

“I'm sorry, but I prefer not to talk about my father. I have already told you more than I'm comfortable with, but I felt that you had the right to know. From here, may we leave the subject?”

“Of course. If you're finished I can take your plates.” Mrs. Granger stood up.

“Let us do it, Mum. You can get the tart.” She and her boyfriend stood up too and started to clear the table. Soon they were all back at their places, and all of them had got some apple tart, which smelled lovely.

“Oh, but I almost forgot.” Hermione's mother jumped up again. “There was an owl here for you when you were out. I put the parcel over here.” Leaving the table she walked over to a chest of drawers next to the window and picked something up. “Here you are. Is it one of your friends from school that's sending you gifts?”

The package was square-shaped and approximately the size of a pencil case, carefully wrapped in a light brown paper. Her name and address was written in neat block letters but there was no sender. Hermione started to open it and had produced a plain, white paper box when Draco put a hand on hers.

“Maybe you should wait with that to after dinner?”

“Why?” She looked at him with a surprised face.

“It might be a joke of some kind, maybe better suited to open at your room.” His expression was a little bit too serious to match his words.

“You think it's something unkind?”

“Let's just say that I have a funny feeling about it. It's probably nothing, but just in case.”

“You think someone would send something bad to our daughter?” Mr. Granger looked affronted. “Why would anyone want to do that?”

“As I said, it's probably nothing at all. But people can be kind of different when it comes to deciding what is a fun joke, and there's nothing bad in being careful. Seeing as it wasn't any sender I just started to wonder why it was a secret.” He reached out and took the box from her. “If you excuse me, I will just put this in Hermione's room.” Quickly he stood up and disappeared through the door. Some muttering could be heard, including something sounding like ' _protego_ ', and then he came back. “I left it on your desk, we can look at it later. Now I suggest that we focus on this wonderful tart, it smells delicious.” He smiled appreciatively at Mrs. Granger.

“It sure does.” Mr. Granger smiled at his wife too. “So Draco, you're not from London I take it?”

“No, our manor is located in Wiltshire. It's very beautiful, and a good place to grow up.”

“I see. Are there a lot of... your kind who live there?”

He shook his head. “No, it's just my family.”

“Oh. Do you have a big family? Siblings? Other family members?”

“No, I'm an only child too. When I grew up it was only me and my parents who lived there. I had an aunt who lived there some years when I was at school, but we were never close.” A slight bitterness could be heard in his voice.

“Wasn't that lonely to grow up like that? Because I believe that you didn't have any connections with... our kind, am I right?”

There was an amused smile. “No, we did not associate with Muggles, but to a wizard the nearest neighbour isn't further than the nearest fireplace. I take it you've never travelled with floo powder.”

“No, but Hermione has tried to explain of course.” Mrs. Granger smiled. “I think it sounds a bit risky though.”

“It's nothing to worry about, it's perfectly safe. Those non magic buses you have though must be considered a bit questionable...”

“Say that to Harry.” Hermione wore a wide smile.

“What did he do this time?” Her boyfriend looked partly tired, partly apprehensive.

“He coughed when he was going to Diagon Alley, and ended up in Knockturn Alley instead.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “He can win a war, but he can't manage to get through the floo straight. That man never ceases to amaze me.”

“Oh, yes, the war.” Mr. Granger looked up with a troubled expression. “Hermione has told us a little about it, but not much. It just feels so unreal, that a war was going on under our very noses and no one knew. Of course we believe her though, and I understand that she had a very hard time and had to live through a lot, especially during the last year of the war.” He shook his head. “Were you personally involved in the war too?”

The silence stretched out, strained, and all eyes were on Draco, who was staring down at the table. Hermione started to say something a couple of times, but then stayed silent. Finally Draco heaved a deep sigh and looked up with a haunted expression.

“I...I don’t like to talk about the war. I was just as involved as Hermione, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

“That's why your father is in prison, isn't it?” Mrs. Granger's voice was very soft.

“Yes.” He stared down at the table again, like there were secrets hidden in the mahogany.

“So he...” With some hesitation Mr. Granger started to talk. “He was one of these, what do you call them, Death Eaters, right?”

“Yes.” His eyes didn't leave the last spoonful of tart that was left on his plate.

“With the — the mark on the arm and all? The ones that only the worst of them had?”

“That's correct.”

“I'm sorry, my boy, I understand that it must be very hard for you. To live with such a person in the inner family, and-”

“Draco.” This time Mrs. Granger's voice was even softer, almost sad, as if she knew the answer already. “Would you please show us your left arm?

This time the silence was dense enough to slice with a knife, and then two things happened at once.

“But dear, you can't actually believe that our daughter...” He trailed off and his attention went back to Draco.

At the same time Draco slowly started to roll up his left sleeve. His face was perfectly neutral and stripped of all feelings.

“You don't have to do this.” Hermione put a hand over his, freezing his movements.

“What does it matter now?” The voice was hoarse and uneven, as if all his hidden feelings were focused that way. Without even a shiver of hesitation, he pushed up the sleeve of the shirt, revealing his Dark Mark, capturing the eyes of all the people in the room.

“This is unacceptable!” Mr. Granger pushed out his chair, jumping up from the table. He turned to his daughter. “ _This_ is what you bring home?”

“Dad, wait, you have to hear him out first, he-”

“I don't have to hear anything! He is leaving this house immediately, and you are _not_ going with him!”

Hermione jumped up too. “I'm a witch of age, you can't tell me what to do!”

“In that other world maybe, but now you're under my roof, and you're still my daughter!”

“And did you think that I would stay in this world for long? Don't you think I can disapparate out of here whenever I want?”

“I am your father-”

“Please, listen.” Mrs. Granger's voice was low but cut through the argument. When she had her husband's attention she went on. “Let us hear what they have to say. I trust my daughter, I know she can see the difference between right and wrong. Sit down again and let's just listen to them.”

They slowly sat down, but he was muttering something about 'seducing young, innocent women'.

“Draco, tell us about the war.” The mother still spoke very softly.

“I... I did so many bad things. There is no forgiveness for what I did.” He had pushed his sleeve back down, but his arm was still lying in front of him, shirt unbuttoned.

“Oh, stop that!” His girlfriend interjected him with a frown, turning to her parents. “He was forced to join under death threat. He had to accept or die. And when Voldemort wasn't sure that it would be enough, he brought his mother's life into it all. He had to comply or watch his mother die.”

“Did you kill many of them? Of us?” Hermione's father sounded like he was going to be sick.

“No!” Draco's head snapped up. “I've never killed anyone. Never!”

“But he saved my life. He lied to save us. A lie he had to pay for.” When she saw Draco's questioning face she smiled a sad smile. “Harry was linked to Voldemort, he could see your punishment after we escaped. With your wand. Wasn't it strange that you never put up a fight for it?”

“He... saved you, you say?” Her father looked a bit confused, and the anger seemed to have subsided.

“Yes. After all he had done just to survive he risked his own life to save mine.” She was perfectly aware that this was to stretch the truth a far bit, but her father didn't have to know that.

“I see. Well, maybe I rushed ahead a bit...”

“Maybe you did.” His wife gave Draco a small smile. “You are welcome in our home. If Hermione has chosen you she has chosen well, because that's what she does. Even if you have a dark and hard past.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Granger. That means a lot to me.”

“Dearest?” She looked at her husband.

He mumbled something before speaking up. “I'm sorry for judging you before listening to your story. I shouldn't have done that.”

“Don't think about it. I would have done the same thing if it were my daughter.”

“You don't have a daughter, do you?” There was some panic in his eyes.

“No, I definitely don’t.” The smile couldn't be stopped.

“Well, don’t you have a package to open?” Mrs. Granger turned to her daughter. “Your father will help me clear the table, you two go and look at the mysterious mail now.”

After thanking for the dinner both of them returned to Hermione's room. Draco sat down on the bed and pulled her with him down. There he put his arms around her and hid the face in her hair.

“That was an ordeal. I'm all shaky. Let's just sit here for a moment before we look at your mail.”

“Just a second.” She entangled herself, went up and closed the door. Then she sat down next to him again. “I know what use to calm you down.” Resolutely she put her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

“You were right, now it feels much better.” They pulled apart after some dedicated kissing, both with matching satisfied smiles on their lips. “Let's check that box, shall we?

Hermione jumped up and reached out for it when Draco stopped her.

“Wait.” He took out his wand. “I did a quick check earlier, and there are no obvious curses on it, but maybe it had to be me opening it. I don't really have a _funny_ feeling about it, I have a bad feeling.”

“Oh, don't be silly. If it's bad, what does it matter if it's you or me who actually opens it?” She picked up the box and quickly opened it.

“Yeah... Just that I would rather have me injured than you. But it seemed fine, just don't touch the contents before...” With a frown he fell silent when she picked up a small ceramic vial with intricate symbols carved on the sides.

“Strange.” She turned it around in her hands, and while listening to the sound of some liquid inside it she watched him lifting his wand and move it around while muttering to himself.

“I don't know what this is, but I do know that it is bad. I trust my instincts and I recognize the signs. This is Dark.” He looked troubled and seemed prepared to take it off her hands by force.

“But why would someone send me a Dark potion of some kind?”

“That's the question, isn't it? There wasn't any note?” With a deep frown he picked up the box and took out a folded paper. He opened it and found a short message in an elegant script.

_What is this?  
_ _(Be thorough.)_

They both stared at the note, then at each other, and then back to the note.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Putting down the vial she reached out for the note. With a frown she turned it over, but there were only those five words.

“I think it means that you're supposed to carefully figure out what it is, but why... I have no idea.”

“I'd like to know who is handing out instructions before I start following them. This is kind of absurd.” She shook her head.

“We'll bring it to the Manor. I can check with some books and maybe find some more spells for analysing it. I don't think we should open it though. My father has... wait... _I_ have a big library that contains a lot on Dark Magic. If there is an answer it is there.”

“If you think so.” Sitting down on the bed she looked up at him with a doubtful face. “I believe there is something fishy here. Why send it like this, with no sender and no warnings or anything... no, I wonder if it's better to just forget about it.”

“Where is your sense of adventure? Don't you find it at least a bit exciting?”

Slowly a smile started to tug at the corner of her mouth. “Yes, but... I'm trying to be responsible here.”

“And we can't just get rid of it of it without knowing what it is. What if it is something seriously bad? We can't just leave it out on the street where anyone could find it.”

“OK, you've got me. We'll bring it to the Manor and check it out a bit there. Then we can decide how to go on with it.” Her smile was big and warm, and very affectionate.

Draco sat down next to her. “Do you know that you are so beautiful that you are going to drive me insane?”

The answer was an amused giggle. “Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I just... there is something you have to hear.” She stood up and went over to the bookshelf.

“What is that?” The pure-blood looked at the plastic disc in her hand.

“It's a kind of gramophone record.” Her smile was highly amused. “I keep thinking of this song when it comes to us. I liked it a lot when I grew up.” The soft woman's voice started to sing:

 _'Billie I wonder, why are we insane_  
_Will we ever get better_  
_Will we stay the same  
_ _Billie I'm worried'_

After a while, a stray line floated up.

_'Being in love is crazy not alone that way'_

Draco fought with a smile when the male singer declared their love.

 _'Millie our world's an asylum_  
_And our minds like you say ain't that straight_  
_But you know and I know our passion's_  
_Not deformed it's true to say  
_ _We'll love our lifetime'_

When the startling last verse ended with _'Guess love makes you do funny things'_ he laughed out loud. “What is it you are trying to say, that you want to get rid of Weasel?”

“No, that's not really the important part here.” She sat down next to him again, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. “But we're saying so often that we must be insane, so who knows, maybe we are. Living in our own world where everything makes sense.”

“Being insane with you, I can live with that.” His expression was still amused, but also showing a good deal of feelings. “And I promise, we're soon there. If you don't drive me insane with your beauty, a week in the Muggle world will definitely do it.”


	2. A chilly welcome and the warmth of a friend

“I must admit, I'm a bit worried.” Hermione stood in the Leaky Cauldron, side by side with her boyfriend, about to walk through the fireplace and into Malfoy Manor.

“Why? I mean, I can imagine a whole handful of reasons for you to hesitate, but what is it that bothers you right now?”

“What if your mother doesn't want me there? If I'm not welcome? I’m Muggle-born, what if she doesn't want me staying?”

“I've told you this before, but I'll tell you again. Yes, she's my mother, and I honour and respect her. But _I_ am the head of the Malfoys now, the Manor is _my_ house and _I_ decide who lives there, not her. She'll just has to accept that.” He reached out and stroke her hair. “And I think you are very courageous and considerate towards me, doing this.”

“Well, let's go before I change my mind.” Her slightly shaking hand pressed his tightly.

Her boyfriend smiled at her, and stepped forward. “I'll go first and wait for you on the other side.” He threw in the powder, gave the address, and was gone in a whoosh.

On unsteady legs, she walked toward the fireplace, mimicked his actions, and tumbled out of the great fireplace, into the Malfoy Manor’s drawing room. She had tried, and in her opinion she had managed well, to prepare for this moment. Being back here in the very room where she thought her life would end, where she had experienced more pain than she thought possible. She was wrong. Nothing could have prepared her for this. She took a couple of steps into the room, trying not to acknowledge her feelings, even though she felt her breath quickening. But coming to a breaking point she looked around quickly to make sure that Mrs. Malfoy wasn't around, and then she collapsed on the floor and let her tears fell. The next second a pair of strong arms were around her, and a caring voice in her ear mumbling soothing words.

“I'm here, and I'm not letting anything happen to you. There is no danger here now. It's just a room now, nothing more, nothing less.” A short pause. “I love you.”

The last part made her slowly look up. She met a worried pair of grey eyes, and even slower she went back to normal breathing again. A gentle hand started to dry away her tears, still keeping her close with the other arm.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what happened.” She dried away the rest of the tears. “So silly of me.”

“You have strong memories of this place, and it might be linked to so much more. Maybe it was not just the place as such you encountered, but the horrors of the war, concentrated into a single memory.” He kissed her forehead. “And you're not silly, no way. It took you a lot of courage to come here, you must have been strained to the point of bursting.”

With a shivering sigh she looked up at him. “It feels a little bit better at least. But I'm just keep seeing her, hearing her...”

“Bellatrix is dead. She will never come back to hurt you again.”

“She was your aunt after all. Don't you miss her?”

“No. I... but no. I don't miss her.”

A movement at the door made them both look up.

“Draco, you're home, so nice.” If she was surprised to see them on the floor she didn't show it. “Is the...” Her upper lip curled in distaste. “...Muggle-born hurt?”

Letting go of Hermione he stood up and walked over to her. “Mother.” He kissed her on the cheek, and then turned around and reached out a hand for his girlfriend, who hurried to get up from the floor and walk over to them. “This is Hermione.”

Narcissa Malfoy, suddenly very tall and superior, looked at the younger woman as if she was an unwanted stain on the tablecloth. “I know who Miss Granger is, I'm not senile.”

“Well, she'll be staying here for some time now.” There was something sharp in his voice.

“Some time?”

“Yes, we haven't really decided for how long yet. Until further notice.”

“I see. Well, don't let me intrude on your time any more. Don't be late for tea.” She turned and swept out of the room.

“So, that was my mother. One thing less to worry about.” His face was a bit apologetic.

“You mean that I should _stop_ worry after that? She did everything but asked me to go to hell.”

He looked a bit uncomfortable and reached out for her hands. “Just give her some time. She really is a nice woman.”

“Why do I highly doubt that I'll get to see that?” Suddenly she wanted to scream, to pick up that sumptuous candlestick and throw it in the wall. How could she ever believe that it would work out for her to stay here? This pure-blood madness was going to consume her, chew her thoroughly and then spit her out in a deplorable shape. If not even Draco could keep down his pure-blood pride in front of her two Muggle parents, how would he act here, in his own Manor? And if she at least survived that, she would still have to fight this snobbish upper-class manners that she hadn't got a clue how to manage. Maybe she should just go back home, and meet Draco in daytime in other places? It wasn't really that tempting, but if the alternative was to stay with Draco's stuck up mother...

“Oh no, you don't!” Draco pulled her close and watched her intently.

“What?”

“I could see what you were thinking. You were thinking about putting your tail between your legs and fleeing the area. I will not accept that.”

“You have to admit that it's an alternative. Not so fun, but maybe a lot better in the end.” Maybe it was the crying, but she was suddenly very tired.

“Snap out of it, you're a Gryffindor, for crying out loud!” He smiled and kissed her quickly. “And if you deny your connections to your courageous house you just have to use your inner Slytherin and plot yourself into my mother's heart.”

She couldn't help laughing. “Yeah, as if that would ever happen.”

“Because you're not leaving. You've done the worst part, now all you have to do is...”

“...stay alive?”

“I told you that this house isn't dangerous any more. There is nothing here that can hurt you.”

“I wouldn't put it past your mother to accidentally chop my head off while she prunes the roses.”

“Please, don't worry about my mother.” With a tilt of the head he caught her eyes. “I promise, her bark is worse than her bite. She might be a bit chilly now, but she will soften up. She always does.”

With a sigh she shook her head. “I don't think so. I'm a stinking Mudblood, remember? And not only that, I'm the stinking Mudblood who took her son away from her. She must have preferred that it was only the two of you.”

“I can see that you're trapped in your negative thinking right now, and nothing I can say will change that. Let's just leave this discussion and this place, and go and look at your room. Maybe you'd like to freshen up before tea?” He held out his arm for her to take, but when she took it he pulled her close and placed a slow kiss on her lips. “Don't worry that much, please.”

“Am I supposed to redress before tea? Or what did you try to hint?”

The laughter filled his eyes, but he managed to keep his smile in check. “No, I thought that maybe you wanted to wash your face and have a moment to yourself. But you don't have to do anything, you're perfect the way you are.”

“I rather not let go of you right now. If I know myself right I would end up lost in some obscure part of the Manor, and accidentally invoke some old, Dark magic. Or just find myself alone with your mother. That's probably worse.”

“OK, then I'll be with you all the time. This way, if you please.”

They left the drawing room and Draco steered them for a flight of stairs. They went up to the second floor, and after walking down the corridor he stopped at a door.

“This is your room.” He opened the door and followed her inside.

The room was nice and airy, decorated in white and blue. There was a four-poster bed half way down the left wall, and otherwise it wasn't overly furnished. Her things were already standing at the foot-end of the bed. She walked over to the window and looked out over the flourishing garden beneath. It was all very beautiful.

“Do you think this will be fine?”

“Yes, absolutely. This is very nice.” Leaving the window, she walked over, nestling her head against his shoulder. “And where will you be?”

“I'll show you. Come.” He took her hand and led her out in the corridor again. “I'm having some difficulties getting used to it, but I'm trying. You see, I've left my old room, where I've been staying all my life. But when I came home Mother moved out of the master bedroom, insisting that it was mine now. So I'm living...” They stopped in front of a twin door. “...here.”

The doors opened inwards, and they entered a big, long room. In the first part there was a sofa, a table and a couple of chairs, in a corner was a desk and next to the big window was a big chest of drawers. At one wall there was a big fireplace where a fire crackled, and a cosy armchair stood next to it. There were two more doors in the room, one that seemed to lead to a bathroom, and one that looked like a wardrobe. In the far end was an arch, and behind that was a smaller part of the room with another window and a big bed with lush, green curtains. Next to the second window she could catch a glimpse of a balcony door. The colour scheme in the rest of the room was green too, and she felt a bit like she had walked into the Slytherin dormitories. In any way this was most definitely where the master of the Manor slept, no doubt about it.

“What do you say?” He looked at her with an undefined face.

“It's... big. And... quite luxurious. Did you get a feeling that you had to try and impress me?”

The neutral face turned into a one-sided smile. “You were the one asking for my quarters. I'm just following your wishes.” An amused wink was followed by a slightly abashed expression. “And yes, maybe I wanted to impress you a little.”

“Well, you succeeded. I'm impressed. And now, when is it time for tea? I really don't want to be late, no matter how fancy your bedroom is.”

  
o O o

  
The tea was a disaster. Mrs. Malfoy wasn't a bit chilly, she was the foreboding of a new ice age. She was a perfect hostess, but she didn't talk to Hermione if it wasn't necessary, something she made very clear. One time she turned to Draco and asked if 'Miss Granger was satisfied with her room', something he answered with a suggestion to ask her herself. Mrs. Malfoy got very busy with her cup of tea, and the subject was dropped. Otherwise it was mostly small talk between Draco and his mother, unfamiliar things and persons that Hermione could not relate to for a second.

But finally the tea was over, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure if Mrs. Malfoy even noticed her thanking her for the meal, but after that she could walk out of there next to Draco. He looked at her with understanding eyes.

“I have a treat for you.” An affectionate hand came up and stroked her cheek.

“That sounds good, I could need one.”

“Let's go this way.” He led her to a beautifully carved door. With an uneven smile he opened the door for her and let her walk in. Inside there were shelf after shelf with books, some new but most of them old. The windows were hung with thick, wine-red curtains and a table was standing in the light under one of them. In the further end there was another fireplace, and two big armchairs in front of it. “Feel free to use this room as much as you like when you are here. I'm sure you can find something interesting.”

“I sure think so too.” With something close to awe she walked into the room. “I can borrow whatever I want?”

“Whatever you feel like. I must warn you about the one with black silk ribbons around though, they are more or less 'alive' in one way or another. You want to be careful with those.”

“I see.” A delighted smile spread over her face. “Yeah, this sure is a treat. You're lucky to have such a collection.”

“Yes, I believe I am.” He looked satisfied and gave her a slight push forward. “I thought I should look at that vial, I'll be back in a bit. Why don't you see if you find something interesting? I'm just going to bring some of these with me.” In a quick pace he went past the shelves, pulling out a book here and there. “So. Have fun.”

“Mhm.” Her mind was already somewhere else, as she slowly walked along the bookshelves and read on the spines of the books. Every now and then she picked up a book, looked through it and put it back on the shelf. There was a calm atmosphere in the library, and she felt at home. Not being able to choose she picked out a couple of the books and went to the table at the window. She chose a beautiful one in black leather binding and nine knots on the spine, and soon she had lost all sense of the surrounding world. She looked up in surprise when she realized that someone was talking to her.

Draco laughed at her. “You sure found something interesting, what are you reading?” He closed the book with a finger in it where she was reading, and checked the front. “Hermione, what _are_ you reading?” His smile was still amused, but a note of seriousness was added, and his eyes were unreadable.

“What, is there something wrong?”

“No, it's just... You're aware that the book you're studying right now is one of those that with all certainty would be confiscated if there was a raid here?”

“You mean it's...”

“Pretty Dark, you can say that.”

“Oh.” She looked a bit taken aback. “I just thought it was interesting.”

“Yes, and it is, from a scholarly point of view. It's just that, for example, this method...” Quickly he flipped through the pages until he reached the one he looked for. “...can easily be used as an effective kind of torture. And it has been known to be used that way.”

“I never thought about it that way.” The regret was written all over her face.

“That's because your brain isn't taught to think that way.” With a calm smile he opened the book to where she had been reading. “That's why I honestly can't see any problem with you having it. Keep on reading if you think it's interesting.

“I don't know. It feels wrong in some way.”

“Not because of what's written in the book, but because of what I said. It's still just as interesting as it was five minutes ago. What are you afraid of, that someone should get to know that you're studying Dark literature?”

“No, it's just that...” There was a hint of a blush on her cheeks. “Yes, honestly, maybe that.” She made an impatient gesture. “'Hi, what did you do this summer? Oh, I went to Malfoy Manor and studied Dark magic.' Not exactly optimal for any of us.”

This time the amused smile was back. “Maybe you don't have to put it that way. It's just you and me here, and I'm for sure haven't got any urges to notify anyone about your choices of book. Read whatever you like, there's a lot here that you won't find in ordinary libraries. You know that I won't judge you, and who else needs to know?”

“When you put it that way...” The longing in her eyes was obvious, but also tinted of a small part hesitation. “I mean, it's not as if it can be dangerous.” Pause. “Right?”

“You're a highly intelligent woman, I'm not worried about your mental health.” He shook his head and smiled fondly at her. “Don't get me wrong, but you might even learn something you could have use for. And with that I don't mean that you should start to torture people.” A wry smile replaced the previous one. “It's not really your style.”

“Those books sure are tempting. As you said, so much to read that I won't find in the normal bookshelves. So much to learn that I can't learn anywhere else. It would be a waste to let it go, don't you think so?”

“Yes, I agree with you. But, before you turn back to the book I would like to have your attention for some time.”

“OK, what is it?” Sitting a bit straighter up on the chair she pushed away the book.

“I've looked at the vial now. And... well, you can get the good news first. I have checked for everything from serious curses to tiny jinxes, and it doesn't seem to have anything like that on it.”

“And the bad news?”

“This is intricate Dark magic.” His face grew grim. “And a really serious sort too. I don't think you should keep it.” There was a short shrug. “I suppose you can leave it here, this house has seen its fair share of Dark artefacts. But that wouldn't be my recommendation, especially if you want to know more about it.”

“So, what do you suggest?”

“Take it to the Ministry. Let them check what it is, and hopefully they can tell you something more about it. I very much doubt that the only thing you were planned to find out was that it is Dark.”

“I suppose I could talk to Harry. Hopefully we can get some answers if we can go directly through Shacklebolt.”

“Pays off to have famous friends.” His smile was uneven and not entirely nice.

“Yeah, Harry won't like it. I need to find a way to make it sound easy and everyday business.”

“Poor celebrated hero.” The mocking voice didn't even try to hide its disdain.

“You know, Harry _would_ have you for breakfast if he heard you right now.”

“Lucky for me that he's not here then. And for you. You would miss me terribly.”

She couldn't help laughing. “Of course I would.” The smile was very affectionate. “I don't like it when you mock my friends, but I do like it very much when you're in this good mood. There’s been too much fear and dejection these last few years.”

“Well, you're here, why shouldn't I be in a good mood?” He walked over to her and pressed a kiss beneath her ear. “And you smell heavenly. I could inhale you all day.”

“Enough with the seduction, you make me all scatterbrained.” The smile seemed very satisfied though. “May I borrow an owl? I need to write to Harry.”

  
o O o

  
Harry!

_I hope everything is good with you and that you can enjoy your time off. Lots of doing_  
_nothing, hanging out with Ginny and just having a good time sounds about right. I'm at_  
_Malfoy Manor at the moment, and it isn't as bad as it could have been. Draco's invitation is_  
_'until further notice', and I think I will stay here for some time._  
_The reason that I'm writing is a bit complicated though. I have encountered a problem, and_  
_I need your help. To make a long story short: An owl brought me a mysterious_  
_package containing a ceramic vial. An anonymous note encouraged me to find out as much_  
_as I could about it. Draco says that it's a serious piece of Dark magic, and that the only_  
_sound thing to do with it is to take it to the Ministry. I was thinking that the best way to_  
_handle this is to go straight to Shacklebolt, he would know what to do with it. Do you  
_ _think you can talk to him and hopefully also make me company to the Ministry?_

_Hope to hear from you soon._  
_All the best,_  
_Hermione_   
  


_***_

_  
Hermione_

_Thanks for your letter. I'm trying to be as lazy as I can, and it works pretty well. I've had many_  
_dinner invitations from Mrs. Weasley, she seems to believe that I still need to be fed up after the war._  
_I've tried to tell her that I'm perfectly nourished after a year at Hogwarts, but I think she just likes_  
_to fuss with me._  
_I'm having a hard time believing that a stay at Malfoy Manor isn't hell on earth, but I guess that_  
_having Malfoy there makes you blind and deaf for everything else. Just make sure you don't get hurt_  
_in any way, I would hate it if I had to go back there just because I had to impose a punishment._  
_What you're telling sounds very strange, are you sure you want to get through with this? I mean, are_  
_you going to follow the instructions from an unknown person, especially when it comes to Dark  
_ _magic? If I was you I should think about it one more time._

_Take care  
_ _Harry_

_  
***_

_  
Harry_

_Yes, I'm sure. I can't just leave this dangerous thing in circulation, it needs to be handed in. I_  
_totally agree with Draco on that point. I have thought about it and I am sure of my decision.  
_ _Please help me with this, it would mean a lot._

_Hermione_

_  
***_

__  
I understand what you are saying, but I don't like it. And I certainly don't like the idea of talking to  
_Kingsley. We both know that he only would listen because I'm Harry Potter. Isn't  
_ _there any other way?_

_Harry_   
  


_***_

__  
Of course there are other ways, but it would be so much better like this. My possibilities to  
_get to know more is much greater this way. If I show up next to you he will take it seriously,  
_ _and that's important here._

_I know you don't like it, but please. For me._

_Hermione_   
  


_***_   
  


_I don't know why I'm doing this, but for some reason I've learned that it always pays off to listen to_  
_you. And yes, I'm starting to get a bit curious too._  
_I've talked to Kingsley, and we are welcome Wednesday after lunch. If you come here we can have  
_ _lunch together and then go to the Ministry. What do you say?_

_Harry_

  
o O o

It was Wednesday right before lunch, and Hermione had just left the Malfoy drawing room and entered Harry's cosy but untidy kitchen. It was empty, but something was boiling alarmingly on the stove.

“Harry! Hello, it's me!” She was standing undecided in front of the fireplace, it felt wrong to start looking around in somebody else's house, but she felt pretty stupid standing around like a dummy. Slowly she took the stairs to the ground floor. What mood would Harry be in today? Is it a good day or a catastrophic one? Thinking about what he was about to do, it didn't lend for a good day. On the other hand, the year at Hogwarts had been exactly what he needed; being surrounded by friends and no time for brooding. There had been a striking improvement in his mood, making the bad days fewer and the good days plentiful. He still could fall into depression at a moment's notice, but it was easier to block and to get him back up again.

“Harry?” Once again she was standing undecided, but she didn't have to wait for long.

“Hermione!” Harry came jumping down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. “I didn't hear you coming.” When he reached the bottom of the stairs he hugged her forcefully. “It's so nice to see you.”

“It's very good to see you too. It's strange not to see each other every day, I’ve been missing you so much!” She hugged him forcefully, but suddenly let go of him. “Oh! There’s something boiling a lot in the kitchen.”

“Oh, right! Come with me.” He jumped down the next flight of stairs and disappeared into the kitchen.

With a smile on her lips she followed him, it was obviously a good day today. Promising.

“I thought that a soup would be good today, don't you think so too?” Without waiting for answer he started to take out bowls and spoons. “I have some of Mrs. Weasley's home-made bread too.” He opened a cupboard and at the same time he made a flick with his wand. A tray zoomed up on the table, and the bowls and spoons moved up on it, admittedly a bit clumsily. He took out the bread and started to slice it up, put it on a plate and let it soar a bit wobbly through the air until it reached the tray. “I thought we could sit up there and eat, if you don't mind?”

“Using magic in the kitchen, way to go!” With an amused smile she sat down on the closest chair. “Draco was horrified at living the Muggle way at my parents' house, he would applaud you if he could see you.”

There was an amused snort. “Applaud me for working in the kitchen? Isn't his believes that the house-elves should do that kind of labour? I have a hard time believing that you share opinion there.” His right corner of his mouth twitched. “But I assume you're not on hunger-strike when you're at the Manor.” He gave her a piercing look when she squirmed a bit. “And I don't think I want to know if that expression was because you're really in strike in front of Narcissa Malfoy, or if he has softened your resolve until the extent that you don't care any more.”

“Oh, don't be like that. Of course I haven't changed my ideals, it's just that... well, when in Rome...” Her expression was a bit sad and regretful. “And no, I don't want to go up against Mrs. Malfoy any time soon.” There was a shudder.

“You'll have to tell me about her.” He filled the bowls and lifted the tray. “Let's go upstairs and see if this soup is any fancy. I thought that pea and mint soup would be good a day like this.”

They took the stairs up and sat down at the table in the room Harry chose. Both the soup and the bread were popular, and in the beginning they weren't talking at all, just enjoying the food.

“This was very good Harry, you're a talented chief.”

“Thank you, I started in early years.” The reference to his life with the Dursleys made his visage darken, but after a trembling moment it went away again. “I'm glad that you liked it. Now tell me about Narcissa Malfoy.”

“Oh, where to start.” She rolled her eyes. “No, it's not that bad, actually. But you should have seen her when I arrived. She was barely polite. I promise you, when she says 'Muggle-born' it is an insult. And when Draco introduced me she looked like I was something he had found in the trash can.”

“Ah, not so warm welcome from the mother-in-law, I see.” He didn’t seem to be too troubled about it.

“No, not really. But I wonder how things would have been if I was pure-blood.”

“She would probably have been delighted and handed you the engagement ring herself.”

“You see, I don't believe so. I think that a lot of this is jealousy. She's been waiting so long for Draco to come home from school, and when he does he only wants to be with me. She's been alone without her husband for quite some time now, and no one wants to be seen with a Malfoy these days.”

“Except you.”

“Except me. But we are rare.”

“And you realize that you're actually defending that monstrous mother-in-law of yours? What is it with you and Malfoys?”

“I don't know, maybe I hope for her to melt some of that ice and become... at least a little bit nicer. I have a feeling that I will spend some time in that house, and it would be nice if my boyfriend's mother at least talked to me. As it is now she asks Draco to pass the sugar when it stands right in front of me.”

“I didn't really expect her to be nice, but I'm sorry to hear that she is such a... um, yes. I tell you that Mrs. Weasley is a thousand times better.” Seeing Hermione make a face he hurried to proceed. “I'm sorry, I didn't think about you and... Um.”

“Me and Ron. You can say it you know, I'm not going to burst into tears. It's all history. I've been over him for a long time now, and I believe that he is over me too, he's just stubborn and still mad at Draco. And at me for still seeing Draco. Maybe I should play matchmaker and put him together with Parkinson?”

“That would be something to see.”

“But joking aside, I believe it would be really good for him to meet someone. Isn't there anyone cute and enchanting that he can fall for?”

“I don't know, he doesn't meet that many people. There's the Quidditch team of course, we plan to play for fun every now and then. There are some nice girls present, but I don't know, I'm really no matchmaker.”

“We'll just have to hope for the best then.”

“Yeah.” Harry didn't look convinced, but then his expression changed. “Oh, but do you know what?”

“Most likely not.” The smile was small but content. The food had been really nice, and she was sitting here with her best friend. The only thing missing was Draco, but honestly, everything was good here and now.

“Now when we have finished lunch- You are finished, aren't you?”

“Yes, I'm finished, it was delicious.”

“Well now, let me see the vial. I'm as curious as anything.” He was obviously excited.

“Oh, I don't know, it's potentially dangerous after all. Maybe it's better...” She trailed off when she saw his disapproving face.

“I've survived Voldemort, time after time, don't you think I can handle a tightly sealed potion of some kind? Even if your boyfriend label it as dangerous and Dark.”

“Well, because it's you. But be careful, OK?” It felt like she was acting against her better judgement, but it was Harry after all. And he actually deserved it after making an appointment with Shacklebolt. Draco did say that he had checked it for curses. Slowly she lifted it out of her bag and handed it to him.

“Exciting. I wonder what it is. Malfoy had no idea?”

“No, he was careful enough not to open it, and it's only so much you can do with just the bottle. Even if there are writings on it.”

“Yeah, I can see that. It's all gibberish to me, but it's interesting that Malfoy could solve it. Especially if it's really so Dark as he says. Don't you ever wonder how he knows all this? Doesn't it bother you?”

“Just because he has a Dark past it doesn't mean that he's Dark now.” Once again the defensive tone sneaked into her voice when she was talking about Draco.

“As long as he doesn't turn your head and makes you tempted by it too.”

“Don't be silly.” She tried to fight down the blush with raw willpower, and the success was so-so.

Harry put down the vial on the table with a very serious face, even tinted with some fear. “Please don't tell me you're blushing. Or at least tell me that it's not of the reason I'm afraid of.”

“I don't know what you're afraid of, but I'm pretty sure that you don't have too. If it's about that tempting part I can tell you that even Draco says that I'm a highly intelligent woman and that he's not worried that I should be influenced in any dangerous way. Honestly, I'm Muggle-born, I don't know if it even is possible for me.” She felt her heart beat faster, and prayed that Harry wouldn't notice. Her thoughts went to the big, black book all the time, and she dearly hoped that Harry didn't have any hidden skills in Legilimency. It wasn't like she lied to him, she was just tidying up the truth a bit.

“Well, I wonder what discussion made him say that in the first place.” He seemed a bit calmer though, and was merely watching her with a pensive expression. “How are things between you otherwise? Is he nice to you?”

“Yes, he is. Very nice.” The smile was growing on her lips. “I am happy with him.”

“I guess that I should be satisfied with that. It's just... Having you sitting far away in that Manor with him, who I still don't trust, and bloody Narcissa Malfoy, it's just not fun to think about. It was much better when you were at your parents' place.”

“You promised to give him a chance. You said you would.” Her protests were a bit indignant.

“And I am. I'm not bitching about your relationship, trying to get you to leave him. But that doesn't mean that I suddenly trust him. Trust is earned, and he has some way left to go before I am satisfied. And I can't help it, I'm still worried that something will happen to you. Having you fraternising with the Malfoys doesn't make me sleep better at night.” The tone of his voice was light, but his face was showing grim touches.

“Just wait until his friends come to visit. That's when the fun starts.” She was smiling, but there was some bitterness in her words.

“You think they will come when you are there?”

“Well, I plan to stay there for some time. My parents' house isn't that big, and Draco goes mad from the Muggle living. For some reason he is very dubious about electricity. He has his own house, it's big and comfortable. It has the drawback of containing Narcissa Malfoy, but I don't see her that much either way. Both of us are certain that we want to spend our time together, and then the solution is pretty easy. I stay at his place as long as we both are content with the arrangement.”

“And you don't find it... crowded to spend all waking time with him? I mean, I know that I need time away from Ginny. I have my own house too, and she's not living here anyway. And I'm glad for that.”

“We are not together all the time, the Manor is big enough for us to get that personal time. He spends some time in his laboratory, and some time with his mother, which I'm happy not to participate in. I in my turn spend a lot of time in the fantastic library, I take walks in the beautiful garden in the days and then I am relaxing in front of one of the thousand fireplaces that house contains in the evening. Often he makes me company of course, but there is enough time with myself.”

“Hm. It sounds like you're having a good time. The library worries me a bit though. It's the Malfoy library after all, isn't there a lot of... shady literature there?”

“There is some, but the dangerous books are marked with silken bands to make sure one doesn't take out one by mistake.” Once again she was shaping the truth a bit, and it didn't feel really good.

“Really? I didn't expect that. Maybe Malfoy isn't totally daft.” He stretched out his arms, followed by a stretch of the back. “No, I can't sit still here any more. What do you say about heading for the Ministry?”

“It sounds like a good idea.” Carefully she put the vial back in her bag and stood up. “All set to go.” Together they headed for the kitchen, and while Harry has whistling, a bit out of tune, she was thinking about their discussion. She hadn't been truthful about the library and the books, and it gnawed inside her. It felt wrong not to be totally honest with him, but if she tried to explain he wouldn't understand. He would just see it as something bad, and then he would blame Draco. And above all she couldn't allow that. She was going to defend him if needed, because it was like he said to her once; there wasn't much that she wouldn't do for him.


	3. On the track

They had decided to use the floo this time, and arrived in the atrium in the Ministry of Magic. After looking around for a moment, Harry took charge and headed for the lifts, she chased after him. It was obvious that people recognised _Harry Potter, The Chosen One_. Some of them looked at him in awe. She saw his face darken, and she counted the seconds until they were at their floor. She prayed that it wouldn't destroy his good mood before they were at Shacklebolt's office. Harry never did have a good reaction to being noticed like that.

But soon they stood before the sign 'Minister for Magic's office', and Harry hadn't exploded with rage nor fallen into utter gloom, so Hermione guessed they were safe. They were instructed to knock and wait by a secretary, so Hermione reached out a hand and knocked lightly. She tried to keep her hand steady, but now when they were at the door, she could not suppress a slight quiver. This _was_ the Minister for Magic after all, and the formalities of such a visit was a bit unclear to her. Shacklebolt’s deep voice from within asked them to enter, and feeling a bit apprehensive she let him enter first.

“Harry, so nice to see you.” Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up and shook the younger man's hand. “And Miss Granger, so pleased to meet you.” A hand reached out for her too, and she shook it. “Please, sit down.” He made a gesture at the two chairs in front of his desk.

They sat down and she looked around in the office. It was surprisingly plain to be the most prominent office in the building, but it made her relax a bit, and thinking of it, she suspected that it might be the reason.

“So, can we look forward to your application for the Auror office in the end of the summer?” He smiled at Harry.

He smiled back. It was clear they were comfortable around each other, more so than Hermione was. “Well, I haven't got my marks yet, but that's the plan.”

“Good, we'll be happy to have you here. And we both know that your marks are just formality. You, and some others who distinguished themselves during the war, are more than welcome to join us.” With a smile he turned to Hermione. “And you, Miss Granger, will we see you here in the Ministry too?”

“I hope so. I have my mind set on an appointment in Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But as with Harry, I have of course not gotten my N.E.W.T.s yet.”

“As I understand, that won’t be much of a problem. Your reputation precedes you.” The smile disappeared and he leaned back in his chair. “But that's not why the two of you are here. Harry didn't tell me that much, just that it was some Dark artefact that needed identification.”

“You have to talk to Hermione, she's the one with the object after all.”

“I don't know if you could call it an _artefact_ , as far as I can see it's a potion of some kind.” She found the vial in her bag and placed it on the desk. “I don't know much about it.”

“Interesting.” Shacklebolt carefully leaned in and looked at it closer. “How did you come by it in the first place?” He scribbled down some words on a spare leaf of parchment, and flicked his wand to turn it into a paper aeroplane, which zoomed out of the room and disappeared. “Yes, I'm listening.”

“It came carefully wrapped with owl post to my Muggle parents' house. There was my name and address, but no sender. Inside the package was a white box, and inside the box was the ceramic vial and a note saying 'What is this?'. That's all I know.”

“I see.” With a frown he folded his hands. “I understand that the question is ludicrous, but have you had any contact, anyone at all, with any Dark wizard lately?”

Harry cleared his throat, a clear warning that if she didn't tell, he would.

“It's a question of definition, you see, at the moment it wouldn't...” Her speech faltered when she saw Harry's stern face, and her expression turned from anxious to slightly morose. “I’m in a relationship with Draco Malfoy.”

The Minister for Magic looked taken aback for a moment. “ _Malfoy_? But, you’re...”

“...Muggle-born, yes. But Draco doesn't care about that any more. He’s not a Dark wizard, and he is _definitely_ not his father. He's been on trial twice since the war, and they have found him innocent both times. He had nothing to do with this.”

“I... see.” There was a good amount of doubt in his face.

There was a knock on the door, and Shacklebolt told them to enter. A very thin man entered the room, he had a lot of dark, curly hair piled on top of his head and had a slightly dazed expression.

“Ah, this is Robin Stebbins, he's an Unspeakable. I thought that-”

With a couple of quick strides the Unspeakable had reached the desk, eyes locked on the vial, and with a jerky motion he snatched it up. “Where did you get this?”

“I got it anonymously by an owl.”

“Don't try to play games with me,” he demanded. “Tell me!”

“No, it's true, I promise.” It didn't feel very nice to be addressed so rudely, and she felt a bit put on edge by the strange man. “What is it?”

“I can't tell _you_ that.” The look he gave her implied that maybe she was a little thick.

“Well, what can you tell us?” The voice of the Minister seemed to calm everyone down a bit.

“That it's precious. And coveted. Not to forget very dangerous. And that it belongs to us! We've had thieves in our own ranks for a long time now, smuggling these things out, out on secret passageways and dusky roads. But hopefully they all got caught in the last war. Hopefully.”

“So there are more of the same kind?” Harry looked at him with a calm gaze. They all saw the man start to snap at him, but then his eyes widened. His eyes went to the scar, to the Minister, and back to Harry.

“No, not exactly like this. But of the same grade of seriousness.”

“What is it that is so bad with it? Is it Dark magic?”

Trapped between the Minister for Magic and Harry Potter, the man seemed to feel forced to share a little more than he normally would have. “Is it Dark? Yes, I suppose you could categorise it that. You don't understand, a drop of this in your tea and... no, I can't talk about that. There are theories though, of other possibilities, but how to test it?” he seemed to be rambling to himself for a moment, or more at the vial clutched in his hands.

Hermione leaned forward in her chair. “Test what?”

“No, I can't tell you any more, I have already said more than I ought to. Wouldn't have done if it wasn't for the Minister Shacklebolt interested, of course. I think I need to bring this back now. Minister.” He bowed once, and then he and the vial went out the door.

“I hope you got some of the answers you were looking for.” It was very hard to tell if the Minister was holding back a smile or a frown. “He was very talkative for an Unspeakable. I do have the authority to make them talk, but they usually keep quiet in front of me too.”

Harry looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin. “We're not closer to finding out what that really was, and I doubt we will do that either. But we got to know a good deal about it on the way.” His eyes went to his friend and her confused appearance. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yes, we know a lot more now, the question is just what to do with the facts we've got. The note never stated any purpose.”

“No, I have to say that it's a mystery.” Shacklebolt's face formed a thoughtful frown. “I could inform one of the Aurors about it, but it is very thin. We know that something has been stolen and now it is returned. It doesn't really seem to be much more to it.”

“Maybe not... But it's so strange, it doesn't add up. Why send it to me? Why not just send it straight here?”

“Right now I just see one reason, the only thing that connects you with Dark magic.” The worry was obvious, even though the Minister kept a neutral face. “Malfoy. It can't be a coincidence. Did he ever see it?”

She reluctantly started to talk. “He examined it and then told me to go here. He was the one who classified it as Dark magic in the first place.” Her voice got a bit more firm. “But I'm telling you that he had nothing to do with it, he just happened to be with me when I opened the package. He shouldn't have sent me here if he had something to hide, would he?”

“Can you please forget that I'm Minister for Magic for a moment, and just see a man you fought alongside with in the war?” His expression was still worried and also a bit hesitant. “I know this is not my business, but I know what you’ve accomplished. Why waste your life on someone who's as problematic and possibly dangerous as a Malfoy?”

“I'm not wasting anything.” Anger started to burn in her stomach, and she could hear the defiant note in her voice. “He's a wonderful person who would do anything to keep me out of harm's way, and he's _not_ his father.”

“I'm not saying that he would hurt you himself, but being close to him might make you a target. Like getting strange mail. I don’t believe in those kind of coincidences.” He sighed. “But as I said, it's not my place to have opinions about your partners. You choose as you like, of course, but I would hate to see a good person like you get into trouble because of it. Just see it as a piece of advice from someone who has seen a lot.”

“Thank you. I just wish people would see that he's not a Dark wizard, that he isn't a war criminal. He’s just like anybody else who is trying to create a new life.”

“I _am_ Minister for Magic. I see a lot of verdicts coming through this building. And since he's so young, I've seen his. He's been on trial twice, that's true. That also means that twice since the war, there has been solid reasons to try his actions and loyalty to the community. Whatever you say, he's not as innocent as you might believe.”

“I know how this works. People see the Mark, say 'Death Eater' and have judged him beforehand. No offence intended. Yes, he was a Death Eater, but he’s changed. I'm living proof of that.”

Shacklebolt scratched his cheek and turned to Harry without being able to stop half a smile. “She just won't listen to reason, will she? Is she always this fierce in defence of him?”

“No, she won't. And yes, always.” He sent her a fond smile.

The Minister for Magic turned back to his female guest. “You obviously care a lot for him, and maybe that's just what he needs. There is nothing more to do than to wish you the best of luck. And if you should get in trouble, know that my door is always open.”

He stood up, and it was obvious that the visit was over. They hurried to do so too.

“Thank you for your help,” Harry nodded at him with a grateful smile.

“Yes, thank you very much.” Her smile was grateful too, but also contained something unidentifiable. “For your help. For your advice and for caring.”

“You're welcome, both of you. I hope to see you more permanent in this building soon, you will both be great assets to the Ministry.” He watched them leave with a pensive expression.

When they came out of the office and headed for the lifts Harry looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “Are you in a hurry anywhere?”

“No, I have nothing to be in time for. Why?”

“I was thinking, maybe we could have a coffee or something. And talk about this. I'm still curious. Not that I know what to do about it.”

“I won't say no to coffee.” There was a clearly delighted look on her face. “On one hand, coffee with Harry. On the other hand, tea with Narcissa Malfoy. It's an easy choice.”

“I know a nice coffee shop a couple of blocks away, what do you say?”

“I say that it's a perfect idea.”

  
o O o

  
The coffee was delicious, and Hermione looked down with great satisfaction at the large cup on the table. Getting here turned out to have two big advantages; the wonderful coffee, and the fact that she didn't have to say goodbye to Harry just yet.

“Now, if I might be allowed to interrupt the pleasure of professional coffee, what do you think about the strange vial?” Harry gave her an amused look.

“Well, I don't know what to think about. We don't know that much.”

“No, but we do know a bit. Help me out here, you're the thinking part of this duo.” He winked at her, still amused.

“Well, let's see. We don't know the mysterious sender, but the sender knows me. Or who I am at least. I very much doubt that my name was picked out at random. We don't know _why_ I was chosen though.” With a sigh, she took a sip of her coffee.

“What do we know?”

“We _do_ know that it's a potion, and that it's Dark in some way. Both Draco and the Unspeakable said so. We know that it is valuable in some way, and useful in the right company. Dark company, probably. We just don't know exactly what kind of horrors it causes.”

“We know one more thing. We know that there might be another use for it, but it’s never been tested for some reason.”

“Judging from the horrified look on the Unspeakable’s face, it feels pretty safe to say that it would be kind of inhuman to give it to someone, no matter how good side effects it might have.”

“True. And we know another interesting thing. It was stolen from the Department of Mysteries, maybe a long time ago. And it might have been an inside job.”

“Either that or someone who was generous with their Imperius.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Maybe both?”

“But all of this takes us back to the two overshadowing questions.” She swirled the coffee in her cup.

“Which are?”

“ _Why_ did they send this vial at all, and why did they send it to _me_?” With a raised eyebrow she watched her friend.

Slowly he took a sip from his cup, put it down and thought for several long moments. “Those questions might be hard to get any answers to. Kingsley had a theory about the last one though, and I don't think it's far-fetched.”

“You mean that Draco has something to do with this?” She felt her temper rising.

“Yes and no. He doesn't have to be the plotter of this whole thing, but he might have attracted some attention, which is spilling over on you. Do you see what I mean?”

It was sensible reasoning, she had to admit that. But she really, really didn't want Draco involved anything, especially not when it contains horrifying Dark potions and theft from the heart of the Ministry. “Draco has nothing to do with this. Maybe it was a mistake to go to the Ministry.”

“I get it, you're in love. You want to defend him at all costs. But don't let it cloud your judgement to that degree that you can't see fact. You're starting to act strange, and you can imagine what people will think in that case.”

“He's not using Imperius-” She broke off and lowered her voice to normal volume, it was a Muggle coffee-shop after all. “I just... I know.” Her sigh was slightly shaking. “You're right. I'm just so afraid that they will take him away from me. I don't want him to be involved in something bad. I just feel that if I deny it forcefully enough it won’t be true.”

“Because you're not, in your heart, totally sure that he is as innocent as you make a show of.”

There was silence for a couple of moments. Hermione sipped on her coffee with a pensive expression. “Yes and no. He has done bad things in the past, and he might not regret all of them with the same intensity. He is a Slytherin after all, not a Gryffindor. And he is a man who was raised to be the worst kind of pure-blood. I know all those things, and I can live with them, because I know who he is right now. And yes, if you take away those things, I believe in my heart that he is innocent. As innocent as anybody can be.”

“I see.” The look on his face was both doubtful and sad. “If you say so. But let's not dwell on him now, we have more interesting things to discuss.” Obviously trying to break the charged atmosphere he gave her a quick smile. “Let's go back to the vial again, because there's one more thing I wonder.” A mix of worry and a little bit excitement could be seen on his face now. “Did we succeed in the mission? How much were we supposed to get to know? Have we reached some invisible goal?” An amused smile woke on his lips. “And most important of all, is there a prize?”

She couldn't help laughing. “I guess we can't do anything but wait and see if I get contacted again. Which, I must say, I don't hold for very likely.” With a tilt of her head she observed him, wearing an amused smile which now got a hint of mischief. “And what about this 'we'? As far as I know this was addressed to me, and only me. How did you get all mixed up in it?”

“Oh. No, please don't keep me out of this. You have to tell me if there is a continuation, this is so exciting. I must admit that I don't miss fighting Voldemort year in year out, but the way there... Putting two and two together, trying to figure things out, and making these excursions to get another piece of the puzzle. And to be there without having your life on the line... it's exhilarating. Please, _please_ let me stay on for the ride.”

“I'm only joking. I've been happy to have some company, but I'm afraid that the adventure ends here at the coffee table. We should have taken a couple of those American muffins to celebrate.”

“It's not too late. I can get us a couple of them now.” He stood up and prepared to head for the counter. “But I only get the muffins if you promise not to give up hope for a sequel.” There was a bright smile, and then he went for the promised sweets.

  
o O o

  
Draco was curious when she came back, and she told him everything, about meeting the Minister himself, the strange Unspeakable and what she and Harry had deduced in their discussion. She left out the parts about him though. And not to forget, she promised to take him to a coffee shop and let him try the Muggle sweets. He was very doubtful, but she could see that a promise of sweets was tempting to him.

Now they were relaxing in the library. Hermione was sitting in an arm-chair with a big, old book balanced on her lap. Maybe the book was a bit unsuitable, definitive not anything a celebrated war hero should read, but who was around to care about it? Her boyfriend was taking notes from another, seemingly about potions of some kind. Suddenly the door opened and Mrs. Malfoy entered, something that never had happened before. She didn't succeed in hiding the surprise when her eyes fell on Hermione's book, but she quickly turned to her son.

“You have a visitor,” she informed him curtly.

“I have? Who?” He closed the book and stood up.

“Pansy. She's waiting for you in the Blue Room.”

“Oh, how nice.” His face broke into a smile. “Hermione, are you coming?”

She squirmed in her chair. “No, I think I'll stay here. Just go, I don't mind.”

“Don't be silly. You're coming with me. If I ever should get you two to stop fighting I need to start with having you in the same room. Put that book down now, it's not negotiable.”

Slowly she put a bookmark in the book and went over to him. She tried to ignore the malice in Mrs. Malfoy's face, and demonstratively took her boyfriend's hand. “Just remember that this was your idea.” When he held out his other hand to her with an expectant expression she shook her head. “No way, I won't give up my wand when I'm about to meet her, not in my wildest dreams. Sorry.”

With a slight frown he withdrew his hand, and started for the door. Mrs. Malfoy exited the room and surprisingly quickly she disappeared down the corridor. The both of them headed for the Blue Room, and he couldn't stop a smile when he saw how averse she was.

“It's just Pansy, she won't do anything when I am present. And I will not leave you two alone, I promise.”

“Just let's get this over with.” She added some muttering that wasn't audible, and had to withstand having her boyfriend laughing at her.

They entered the Blue Room, Draco went first and she followed in his wake. Parkinson was standing at a window, but turned around and looked happy and relieved when she saw Draco. Her face fell when she saw Hermione though.

“What is she doing here? I came here to see you, not your Muggle-born hanger-on.”

“She's my girlfriend and a part of the deal now. And you two need to master the skill of being in the same room without hexing each other.”

Parkinson tossed her head. “Well, I guess that she's so insignificant that it doesn't matter.”

The master of the Malfoys rubbed his face. “I guess the 'being nice' thing is to ask too much at this point.” His tired face turned happy again. “But it's nice to see you Pansy. Come, let's sit down.” He led the young women to a table where he pulled Hermione down on the sofa with him, and left Parkinson to have one of the comfortable chairs. “How have you been?”

“Well... So-so I guess. I and my father are not getting on well, and the house starts to feel very small.” Some nervousness begun to be seen between the words.

“That doesn't sound nice. Is there anything special you can't agree about?”

“Well...” With an irritated glance at Hermione she stopped. “Does she have to be here? I do mind.”

“As I said, this is my girlfriend, and she is a huge part of my life. I keep no secrets from her, and my goal is to get you as comfortable with her as you are with me. So yes, she has to be here.”

“Oh, to hell with it then.” Her face twisted between irritation, hope and despair. “I'm engaged.”

“What? You haven't even told me that you were seeing someone!” His eyes narrowed. “But you don't look very happy about this.”

“That is because I haven't been seeing someone. My parents found a presumably good man for me, and decided it together with his parents. I don't know if he had a say in this, but I sure hadn't.”

“But they can't do that, it's barbaric!” Hermione couldn't stay silent.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Parkinson’s voice was ice cold, and she sent the other woman a look of pure hate. It was diminished a bit by the resignation in her posture though. “As a pure-blood you have to be prepared for this. Just wait, it will come to Draco too. Don't believe for a second that he would be allowed to marry you, disgusting little Mudblood.”

“I'd like to believe that I have something to say in it, seeing my status in the family and all.” If Draco cared about the insult, he didn't let it show.

“But you'll want a pure-blood when that day comes. Anything else would be unthinkable.” Parkinson stared at him with big eyes.

“We'll see when that day comes.”

“There is an option for me of course. If I marry someone else...” Her face was despondent and her eyes were hesitating but slightly begging.

“Pansy, you've got to be kidding!” Staring at her he seemed to be looking for words.

“We're both pure-blood, we enjoy each other's company and we share a lot in life. It could be good.”

“No. Just no.” A helpless laughter escaped him. “That was probably the strangest proposal I will ever get.”

“Don't laugh at me, I'm serious.”

“And so am I. Don't you understand, I love Hermione, and I couldn't dream of leaving her.” He reached out and pressed his girlfriend's hand, and got rewarded with a small smile. “And I'm sorry, but I don't think it had been a good idea, even if I hadn't been in a relationship. I'm sorry.”

With a strained face Parkinson looked down on the floor. “I guessed so. But I thought there was no harm in asking.”

“But why don't you want to get married? If you are so prepared for this, and obviously haven't got any problems with arranged marriages.” Hermione's voice was slightly sharp, but also carried a small piece of compassion.

“Because I don't want to marry _him_.”

“And who is it your betrothed to?” There was a frown on Draco's face.

“Marcus Flint.”

“Oh, no, Pansy, that's not good.” His frown got worried.

“Thank you, now it feels much better.” The bitterness in her words couldn't be missed.

Draco run a hand over his face, and he looked very tired. “He might be pure-blood, but he's not a nice guy. He dated Gemma Farley in school, and he was not very pleasant to her. Even I heard about it, and I was just a kid back then.”

“Draco, you're only making things worse.” His girlfriend put a hand on his arm. “I'm not sure if anyone...” She sent a hard glance at Parkinson. “...deserves to be married off like that.”

“And of course you have no idea what you're talking about. But I'm not surprised.” The other girl's voice was acidic, but also a little bit tired.

“But we can't just do nothing.” He looked seriously troubled. “I just can't see...”

“That's why I came here today. I wanted to ask for your help.”

“I'll help you if I can, you know that.”

“I thought, since you're the head of the Malfoy family now, your opinion actually carries weight. And if you could just use that authority to talk to my parents...”

“You want _me_ to talk your parents out of this?” The surprise was mixed with hesitation.

“Yes. You said you would help me. They have to listen to you, your status in our society is just the same as theirs.”

“I'm also frightfully younger than they are. There's no guarantee that they would even listen to me to begin with.”

“I've seen you use the Malfoy authority, I know you can do it. Please.” To everyone's surprise her eyes got uncharacteristically shiny.

“Well...” He heaved a big sigh. “Maybe...” With a thoughtful face he observed his friend. “Maybe if I paid your father a visit, and told him what I know about Flint. He might not be as eager to marry you off after that. Because I do believe that your father actually cares about you.”

“Marrying his daughter off with an older guy against her will just because of blood status doesn't seem very much like caring to me.” Once again Hermione entered the discussion, and she was still obviously upset.

“You know nothing about my father, so just shut up.”

“I just think it's sad that you're being treated that way.”

“Didn't I just tell you to shut the hell up?”

“Hold it a moment. Pansy, I believe that Hermione actually tried to be nice to you.”

“I don't need her pity.” She spat out the words and gave the other girl a murderous glare.

Hermione pressed her lips together and looked the other way.

With a deep sigh he pressed his girlfriend's hand, and then turned back to his friend. “I guess I can do my best and give it a try. I make no promises, but I will talk to him. You do realise that he might think that this is none of my business and that I should just be quiet in the matter?”

“As long as you give it a try. This is my last hope really. Or this time next year I'll be Mrs. Flint.” She stood up. “And now, if you excuse me, there's a terrible smell in here and I like to leave before it sticks to my clothes. You really should do something about it, Draco. Otherwise I would have loved to stay for dinner as your mother offered.”

The other two stood up too, and started to follow Parkinson to the drawing room.

“I don't understand why I can't just apparate?” Her expression had turned grumpy and tired.

“Pansy, you hate apparating, you wouldn't do it even if you could. And it's a security matter, it was set up during the war. We had some problems with apparating.” He sent Hermione a knowing look. “We'll see if I'll take it down again eventually, my mother likes to have it there. I think it works well with floo too. But if you really want to apparate you'll have to go outside the gate.”

“I don't _really_ want to, I was just asking.”

They arrived at the drawing room, and Draco turned to his petulant friend. “One more thing. I'm serious about getting you two to get along, and I'm dead serious when I say that I and Hermione are a package deal. Which means that when you're insulting her I will take it personally. Think about that for a moment or two.”

“You said that you would help me.”

“And I will. I just want you to think about that.”

“Fine. And what are you looking at?” She glared at the other girl with narrowed eyes.

“I was just thinking. It's not pity, I just don't think that you've been treated fairly in this matter. I know, I don't know anything about it, but it doesn't matter to me. And don't think for a minute that this means that I like you, because I most certainly don't. I just want to say that I think it's wrong. Not that my opinion matters here, I don't know why I even bother.”

Parkinson rolled her eyes and turned to her friend. “Coherent. Did you push her down the stairs or something in a sudden moment of clarity? She's supposed to be clever.” A sudden wave of anger had risen in her eyes, but she obviously kept it under control. “Why don't you come with me at once? You can talk to my father now and we'll have it done.”

“Yeah, why not.” He looked down on his clothes. “Or maybe I should wear something more formal. You go through and I'll come as soon as I've redressed. OK?”

“But you will come?”

“Yes, I will come. Go now. The alternative is to leave you here with Hermione, and I suspect that that would just be a disaster.”

“She can stay here, I'll go back to the library.” Hermione walked over to him, and with a glance at the angry girl she reached up and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “See you later, I'll be with the books.” Another short glance, and then she left in an air of condescension.

  
o O o

  
The library was restful as always. Hermione was in a fretful mood though, she was having problems with Parkinson. That woman was just too much. Rude, mean and whiny, she couldn't see why Draco liked her. But then this marriage thing popped up from nowhere, and she must admit that she did feel sorry for her. Arranged marriages, really? How backwards could these families be? The irritation flared up again. Yeah, and how much would Parkinson care if it was the other way around? Right, less than zero. So why did she care? No, she didn't, period.

In her peevish state of mind she ignored the book she had been reading and went to get a small, red one instead. She had looked at it a couple of times before, but gotten scared away again. This was definitely one of the books that would get taken in a raid. Without doubt. But now she felt like she wanted to rebel against _something_ , so this book had to do.

She didn't know how much later it was when Draco came back, reading that book had made her slightly dizzy and confused. He looked really good in his formal clothes. She smiled at him when he came over. A smile of the same kind met hers when he came over to the table, but the smile died when he saw the book.

“Maybe I had to worry about your mind anyway, I thought you were cleverer than that.” He picked up the book and closed it. “You really shouldn't read this one. I know that I said that you could read anything, but this one... no. Find something else, this is not for you.”

The irritation from earlier flamed up. “You don't have the right to tell me what I can read and not.”

“No, but I have the duty to keep you free from harm, and that's what I'm doing. Do I need to hide it or can you just promise not to read it again?”

Suddenly it all flowed away, the anger, the irritation and the confusion. He was standing here in front of her, handsome and caring, and best of all, he was hers. With a small smile she stood up and walked over to him. “It’s not necessary for me to read that book.” She took the book and put it on the table, and then placed her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a serious kiss.

Halfway through the kiss, which started to heat up, the door opened and Mrs. Malfoy came in. Hermione felt the blush rush up on her cheeks when she stepped away from him, and she could see the pink on his cheeks that betrayed that he was a bit embarrassed too. His mother just stood in the door, looking at them without a word and with an expression that was impossible to interpret. After some time her eyes fell on the red book on the table, and there was a line on her forehead.

“Who is reading Allectovis?”

“I am.” She hurried to answer before Draco could say something unnecessary.

“I see.” Her face turned very thoughtful for a moment, before taking back its old, haughty expression. “I just came to tell that Miss Granger has an owl waiting in the drawing room.”

“Oh, it must be from Harry.” She felt how the colour on her cheeks started to subside. “I'll go and collect it at once.”

“Then I'll go and redress again. Are you using the Blue Room, Mother?”

“No, not at the moment. I have some other matters to tend to.” Her voice was as cold as it always was when Hermione was around, who at least believed that she had a warmer voice when she was alone with her son. She turned and left the room in a flourish.

“I'll meet you in the Blue Room then, as soon as I have changed.” He checked that the door was empty, then he leaned in and placed a short kiss on her lips. “See you soon.”

Hermione went to catch the owl, and she reflected over the fact that she easily could walk into the drawing room alone. But staying at the Manor for some time had blunted her strong discomfort, especially for the room but also for the house as such. She was still a little distracted by the room though, and she got her letter from the owl quickly. Without further inspecting the mail she headed for the Blue Room, opening it on the way.

Inside it wasn't the letter she expected, but a part of a side from a newspaper. Why would Harry send her something like that? She looked in the envelope, and there was a folded paper too. She was just about to pick it out when the penny dropped. She looked at the envelope again. Envelope of good quality, her name and address in well-formed block letters and no sender or return address.

It had arrived.


End file.
